


Stabilizing the Ether Circulation

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F, Lactation, Mòrag is 20 years old in this one, PWP, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 08:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17463872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Mòrag learns something new about Brighid's physiology as a Blade.





	Stabilizing the Ether Circulation

**Author's Note:**

> nearly a year ago i wrote an ethermilk fic so lol happy anniversary here's the prequel
> 
> also i've been wanting to write Mòrag being young and horny lmao

It hasn’t been long since their relationship leapt right over that precarious boundary of professionalism and imperial hierarchy, but Mòrag seems grimly determined to take it all in stride in her own laughably serious way. 

Brighid sort of sees it as an oxymoron. She’d also call her Driver’s efforts… cute, if only because Mòrag’s inexperience coupled with her awkward enthusiasm makes for fun scenarios where Brighid gets plentiful opportunities to push her nerves. Trying to be serious _and_ eager somehow plays out well enough, nonetheless, as far as Mòrag being Mòrag is concerned. 

She’d even gotten past that initial hesitance when they became physically intimate for the first time, because Drivers and Blades will always have that uneven codependency about them. Is it _wrong?_ In different sorts of ways? 

Well, yes, kind of. 

Not that it should matter.

As long as Mòrag still has plenty of energy to spare at the end of the day, then. 

And she does, certainly, still riding that high excitement of properly being _with_ Brighid. _With_ her. On top of her, even, trying to achieve the challenge of a lifetime by undressing while never letting her lips part from Brighid’s. 

Brighid might not have the memories of any previous relationships she might have had (though from what she had read of her journal so far, there’d only been two other instances— a short-lived affair with a noblewoman close to her Driver, and then a dramatic tryst with the sister of an Emperor) but she at least manages to pretend to have experience. So she patiently kisses Mòrag back and helps her get out of her uniform before undressing herself, all their clothes thrown aside to be picked up in the morning. 

“Am I—“ Mòrag gasps out of the kiss, crawling up on Brighid’s lap to straddle her. “Am I being pushy?”

“Pushy?” She raises a brow and smirks. “Why, never. Feeling self-conscious again, Lady Mòrag?” 

Mòrag bites her lower lip and glances to the side. She’s still so young. Twenty years old and absolutely raring to go. It’s also sort of embarrassing, trying to admit how often she just wants to pull Brighid with her to bed these days whenever she can afford to think about things that isn’t about her job. She ought to feel ashamed, but even the most tightly-strung officials make a point of taking some time off for themselves. 

They choose nice restaurants, or hot springs, or leisure reading. The Special Inquisitor chooses to have sex with her Blade.

“We’ve been doing this often, lately.”

“Two to three times a week, at my current count,” Brighid says. She sits up, hugging Mòrag around her waist, and nuzzles her collarbone. Mòrag presses her cheek to her hair, then kisses her forehead, right in the center of that heart-shaped mark.

“Are you able to… keep up?” 

She can’t tell if that was genuine concern or an oddly-timed provocation. Still, she bites Mòrag. Not that hard, just enough to make her flinch. “As long as the ether is plentiful.” 

It is. Their affinity link is also certainly a boon for that, too. Mòrag looks like she’s struggling to find the right words again, but she instead decides to kiss Brighid again and pull them both down onto the sheets. 

“Speaking of which, I should warn you—“ Brighid manages to speak out. 

“Mmh?” 

“—the ether—“ 

She’s too damn eager, that’s the only issue. Mòrag’s already sort of awkwardly humping Brighid’s thigh, panting against the crook of her neck and rubbing her hands all over her back. Brighid resists the urge to roll her eyes (not that Mòrag would even notice) and turns over to pin Mòrag down, leaning on her elbows and knees above her. 

All the while, Mòrag continues to try doing that… whatever she was doing, nearly animalistic in its crudeness. Oh, the day when she finally learns to expand her repertoire in the bedroom can’t come soon enough. 

“As I was saying, about the ether.”

“C-Could you use your mouth on me again? As you did last time?” 

Damnit. Mòrag’s not listening. 

“Slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sorry—“ she stammers out, rubbing her hands over her face for a moment to gather her bearings. Her cheeks are still reddened. 

“You’re like this in battle, too. Always so hot-blooded and eager to dive right in,” Brighid chuckles. To show she’s not actually annoyed, she reaches down between Mòrag’s legs and gives her a quick rub, not at all surprised to feel that she’s already wet. Her hand lingers and she rubs a bit more slowly with two fingers, enjoying the sight of her Driver moaning and writhing beneath her. 

Ah, damn, the ether… 

Her jaw slightly tightens and she moves her hand, dragging the wet tips of her fingers up Mòrag’s tensed abdomen. Mòrag, of course, bucks her hips upward in frustration. Their affinity link burns bright gold. 

“I could use _my_ mouth?” Mòrag offers, clearly desperate. 

“If it would make you stop talking for a while. But, no.” Brighid laughs, still tense. She sits up, brushing her hair over her shoulder, and grabs one of Mòrag’s hands and brings it to her chest. Mòrag, being _Mòrag_ , chooses to slide her hand up to her Core Crystal instead.

Brighid impatiently pulls her hand back over her breast. 

“A-Ah.” Mòrag, still bright red but now grinning, brings her other hand up to lightly grab her other breast. “Is that what you’d like? You only needed to ask, Brighid.” 

“Careful, I can see your ego beginning to rear its head.” 

“Maybe you should sit on it, then?”

Brighid makes a face. But then she relaxes and smiles down at Mòrag, the aura of their affinity link flaring strong as she deeply inhales. 

A hot wetness spreads beneath Mòrag’s palms when she squeezes. She freezes up for a moment then jerks her arms away in surprise, and something distinctly very warm and wet sprays onto her front in a thin stream. 

“Wha—“

Her breasts… something is seeping from her nipples, faintly glowing blue and dripping down in little rivulets, coming to pool beneath her groin and against Mòrag’s skin. Mòrag’s no fool… she’d say. She’s well aware of what… lactation is, but… Blades…? 

What?

“Brighid…?! Brighid! You’re— you’re bleeding?! No— leaking? Brighid?!” Mòrag squirms and flails beneath her, her wrists now pinned beside her head. Brighid leans over her, blatantly holding back laughter. 

“I tried to tell you about the ether.” 

“Is this _normal?!_ ” 

“There’s no need to be so distraught, Lady Mòrag.”

“I wasn’t aware that Blades could…!” 

“Most Blades don’t, I would say,” Brighid says, pondering this for a moment. Her general physiology is remarkably human-like for the most part, aside from the parts of her that are constantly on fire. But she’s still a Blade, and Blades are so very different from humans. She leans over Mòrag, still pinning her down, until her breasts sway directly over her face. “But I’ve been drawing in more ether than usual lately, so… I’d assume that disturbed my usual circulation.” 

“Are you okay, Brighid?! Does it hurt?!” 

“It’s only a little uncomfortable,” she admits. “But you’re overreacting. Here—“

She presses one breast down onto Mòrag’s face and she struggles for a moment beneath Brighid, still not quite fully understanding what’s happening. Brighid makes a soothing noise and lets go of one of her wrists so that she can stroke her hair and better position her nipple over her mouth. And that’s where Mòrag figures it out, finally. 

Even if it’s a bit strange and she’s still concerned about that… disrupted ether circulation Brighid mentioned, or something. 

Mòrag’s breathing gradually slows down, just a little, as she automatically gulps down the ether that spills from Brighid’s breast, if only because it would otherwise spill all over her face. After a moment she finally has the sense to better firmly wrap her lips around the stiffened bud and properly suck— and Brighid groans above her, fingers curling through her hair. 

… Though Mòrag can’t quite decide if the fact that it’s ether, and not actually milk, makes this whole situation more bizarre or not. It tastes… scorching hot and slightly sweet, but overall very warm and very much like Brighid. She can’t quite shake that thought out of her head, that it’s her own zealousness that caused Brighid to take in more energy than usual, but the more she drinks the more her head becomes both fuzzy and crystal clear, simultaneously, somehow. It’s invigorating.

Her tongue laps over Brighid’s nipple and she sucks more languidly now, driven by Brighid’s moans of pleasure and that hand still stroking her head. The ether spills past her lips and drip down her face, some of it running down her jaw, gathering in that little hollow where her collarbones meet. 

“See?” Brighid breathes out, pushing her breast further down against Mòrag’s eager mouth. “I’m fine…” 

So she says. Idly, Mòrag wonders what it would be like to suckle her from a different position. Resting in her arms and on her lap. Laying on top of her. As she is now, with this sensation of being trapped beneath Brighid and her breasts pushed down against her face… isn’t bad at all, either. 

“There’s still quite a lot,” Mòrag gasps for air after about a minute. She reaches to grab her— her other hand had been freed at some point, she wasn’t even aware— and massages and squeezes them as she latches onto the other nipple. 

Because it’s _ether_. Of course. It’s a rather dangerous thing, an obscure thought says in the back of her mind, because she’s directly taking ether into her body while their affinity link is still glowing, and now she’s even more alert than she was before. 

At this rate, they’ll be at it until the sun rises. 

Brighid abruptly pulls herself back to sit upright, panting and groaning. 

“I wasn’t done—“ Mòrag says without thinking, automatically reaching up to tease and gently pinch Brighid’s nipples. For that, she earns a quick spray of ether, but it’s clear there isn’t nearly as much as there was earlier. Brighid gasps and arches her back. 

“How greedy,” she breathily laughs. “But I think my ether circulation is beginning to stabilize again.” 

Something occurs to Mòrag, as she licks her lips and plays with Brighid. Her breasts are so… soft. And sizeable. Whereas her own, in comparison… she glances down at herself. Streaks of ether still drip along her front, and the sheets are getting soaked beneath her. But it’s not uncomfortable, somehow. “Will I… also…” 

“Because you drank in all that ether?”

She mutely nods. 

“Well, let’s see.” 

Brighid flashes her a rather coy smile as she lays her hands flat upon Mòrag’s chest and begins to gently knead, far more dextrous and intentional than Mòrag’s absentminded groping, waiting until Mòrag’s breathing is quickened and her own hands had fallen to her sides as she squirms. 

She leans down, still smiling. 

“Hmm, no, I don’t feel anything yet.”

“That’s— that’s fine.”

“We should make sure.”

So she gently kisses Mòrag’s nipple and then sucks hard, as if there’s anything to draw out. 

Her reaction is immediate; Mòrag’s spine curves off the bed and she hisses through her teeth, clutching Brighid’s shoulders. There’s no ether. Of course there isn’t, because it’d just be plain ridiculous if there was, but they both know this was just a playful excuse for Brighid to return the favor. 

In comparison to Brighid’s subdued dignity, Mòrag writhes and groans and cries out Brighid’s name over and over again, clutching her hair as she alternates between each breast. She barely even notices that hand moving down her body until Brighid lightly touches her clit— and Mòrag throws her head back with a shuddering moan, lost in the sensations between the mouth on her chest and the fingers stroking her wet folds. 

“Good girl,” Brighid murmurs against her, the affinity link blinding. Mòrag automatically spreads her legs just a bit wider as two fingers slowly enter her, and Brighid bites down on a nipple. 

“ _Ah—!_ ” Mòrag sharply cries out. 

She sucks on her for a bit, nibbling her for good measure. “See? There’s nothing coming out.” 

“But…” Mòrag breathes hard, caught somewhere between the sensations of being slowly fucked and having her chest teased. “You’re still…?”

“Did you want more, Lady Mòrag?” 

Her tongue darts out between trembling lips. Mòrag slowly nods, reaching up to swipe droplets of ether that linger on her skin.

“In a moment. Be patient,” she murmurs against Mòrag’s neck, curling her fingers inside her. She keeps her face there as she fucks Mòrag, listening to her labored breathing and soft whimpers, adjusting her pace accordingly. There could be unsaid poetry in the way Brighid, a mere Blade and second-in-command, seizes this much control over her Driver, but she doubts Mòrag is thinking about all that prattle when she’s got her arms wrapped around her and is clumsily moving her hips out of rhythm against those fingers. 

It’s so… different, from her fierce dignity when she wears the uniform. Brighid moves her head up to kiss her and taste all of her pitched noises (and the lingering taste of her own ether), tender and harsh, quickening her pace by the second. 

Blinding pleasure sears through Mòrag as she comes, shuddering against Brighid and clinging to her so tightly. The ether is burning throughout her entire being, through her very blood, screaming and ringing in her ears. Pure fire. 

Even still, she can’t do much other than lay there and be limp as Brighid moves her around, pulling Mòrag on top of her as she reclines back against the pillows. Mòrag gladly buries her face between her breasts, still catching her breath. The ether intermingles with sweat, slippery between their bodies. She barely registers the tickling sensation of her hair being brushed away from her face. 

“It would have been… _odd_ , if I had also…” 

“You’re still fixated on that, hm?” Brighid laughs. She cups her own breast, an invite that Mòrag gladly takes without hesitation, licking the soft skin in aimless circles before placing her mouth over her nipple. “Despite being so distraught about it earlier? Haha…” 

Mòrag makes a sort of annoyed sound but keeps her mouth where it is, curling up against Brighid and loosely slinging an arm around her, both of them warm in each other’s embrace.


End file.
